


Silence, sister.

by Tanachvil



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Community: skyrimkinkmeme, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, F/M, Nazir is a pro at massages, Shameless Smut, The Kmeme made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7980478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanachvil/pseuds/Tanachvil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt in the skyrimkinkmeme lamented the lack of Nazir smut and I tried to oblige. </p>
<p>The Listner is deadly but a little clumsy. Nazir is a grumpy bastard but he cares for his little dysfunctional family. He's also very good at massages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence, sister.

“FUCK!”

The Sanctuary echoed with the curse, and Nazir turned his head to look at the stone staircase.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck… I hate those fucking trolls and their fucking fur and.. Ouch!”  
The Listener was walking towards her rooms, but her usual liquid stride was replaced by a rigid posture, her shoulders unusually contracted, every step gingerly put before the previous one.

“Had some trouble, sister?” Nazir never bothered hiding his sarcasm when he spoke to her, and this time was not any different.

“Trouble? No, everything is perfect, can’t you see?” she snapped back, not stopping to turn in his direction, but heading straight to the corridor.  
Nazir smirked and returned his attention to the ledger he was meticulously filing.

 

“Argh! Fuck! FUUUCK!”

This time there was a serious note of pain in her swearing and the halls carried sound way too much to ignore it. He closed the ledger and stood up, crossing the distance between the main hall and her rooms without haste.

The Listener was half kneeling and half sitting on her bed, still covered in her armor, and her face was contorted in a grimace that got deeper every time she moved, trying to lower herself on the mattress.

“By the void, girl, what is wrong with you? Have you forgotten how to lie down?”

She shot him a furious look that would have terrified someone else, one of the initiates, maybe, but not him, and surely not in that situation.  
She gave up her efforts and groaned. It was not a good sound.

“Shut up, Nazir! It fucking hurts!”  
“What happened? Are you injured? I see no blood…”  
“I… I pulled a muscle, ok? Hard. That fucking troll and this fucking cold… I don’t know… I was walking home, I was not paying attention and he jumped right behind me and I turned around and something snapped and I barely managed to burn the fucker enough to run away and now I’m stuck! I can’t even lie down!”

Nazir didn’t bother stifling his laughter, even if it earned him another of those looks from the Listener.  
It was in moments like this that he couldn’t help but look at her in awe, marvel in the contradiction that she was: the hand of Sithis, deadly and efficient, committed and silent, was still very much the same goofy kid that had walked into the Falkreath Sanctuary for the first time. She could be terrifying, efficient and cold and then, a moment after, the most ridiculous creature in existence. She was horrible when drunk, sad, mostly, and she was a slob, always cluttering everybody’s space with junk she collected from her travels. It was like having a sabrecat cub guarding the entrance of your house: you never knew if she was going to greet you purring or eat you alive.  
And now she was simply ridiculous, twisting to reach the strap on the back of her armor and wincing pitifully. 

“Stop! You’ll get worse if you don’t.” He walked to the bed and put a hand on her shoulder. She whined in frustration and let go, giving up on her efforts to find a way to get comfortable.

“I’m going to help you get out of your armor, stupid girl, and then I’m going to fix your neck, but you’ll have to stay still, understood?”  
She nodded, and then, obviously, froze in pain.  
“Stay still, girl! I swear… One day my patience will run out…”

“And what? You’ll stop treating me sooo nicely?”

“You haven’t seen me at my worse, Listener…”

“Well, I hope I haven’t seen you at your best either, or…”

“Oh, shut up!”  
He laughed,and then got to work on her armor.

 

She was in pain. It was searing, hot horrible pain, like a fiery hand clasping at her neck, her shoulders, her arms and she felt stupid, helpless and stupid.  
Every movement Nazir made to remove her armor was careful and slow, but pain couldn’t be helped: arms had to be lifted, shoulders had to be rolled and when he eased her up to remove her boots and leg guards she felt like crying.  
It was stupid, really, but it hurt so fucking much that she had to concentrate before realizing Nazir was speaking to her.

“...here. Might as well help you undress, so that if we can manage to get you into bed, you’ll be all set. Try lifting your foot, just a little bit. Like that, good.”

He worked quickly and precisely, knowing every buckle and every strap of that armor, his hands pulling, bending, pushing at her like she was a doll, and when he was done, he stopped behind her, near the bed.

“Now, this will hurt. You can’t stand here like this and it hurts too much to lie down, right?”  
She whined in response. Lying down definitely wasn’t an option.

“Very well, I’m going to help you kneel on the bed, just on the edge, all right?”

It was painful, and, mercifully, quick. Once she was set on the bed, she tried to find a position that wasn’t so hard to maintain.  
They realized it was easier if she kept her back straight and her shoulders as loose as she could, and, with Nazir on her back making sure she didn’t fall off the bed, she finally found a way to give some rest to her sore muscles. It didn’t felt exactly good, but it was a start.

 

“You tried a potion, I suppose…”  
“Didn’t work. Helped a little, but just barely.”  
She heard the sound of a bottle being uncorked and then the smell, slightly acrid and overly ripe. One of Babette’s creations, not hers. Much better.

“I’m going to try and rub it directly on you, while I fix your muscles, then when you’re feeling like you can move, you’re going to try and heal your neck.”  
“My healing magic is crap, and you know it…”  
“With my help and the potion, it should be enough. Trust me. Yours is not the first set of muscles I help unknot…”

His hands had started working on her spine, slowly, almost without any pressure, and she couldn’t help but tense, but the pain was dull, now, if she stayed perfectly still, and so she did.  
The potion was oily and warm, a blissful contrast to the cold air of the room, and she started to feel a slight tingle on her skin, wherever Nazir rubbed his hands.  
He had started on her spine and now he was carefully spreading out on her shoulder blades, with circular movements, larger and larger every time, pausing only from time to time, to pour more potion on his palms.  
Soon it started to feel comfortable. The pain didn’t disappear, but it was dulled, slowly silenced away by the time he reached her shoulders and started to work on her neck.

The room was almost perfectly silent, just the sound of fire, crackling in the hall and muffled footsteps from somewhere in the Sanctuary, and Nazir’s breath, behind her, steady and regular. When he kneaded at her shoulders, increasing the pressure for the first time, her breath hitched and she tensed.

“Easy… It’s going to be just a moment, and then you’ll feel better, I promise.”

He wasn’t lying, she felt an unpleasant jab of pain, but then something started to untangle, and she let go of the breath she had been holding, with a sigh.  
It did feel good, and she could breathe more easily, now, risking deep gulps of air that had been painful to take just moments ago.

“Not so deeply, girl, you’ll get dizzy.”  
“Feels good to finally breathe properly…”

Nazir laughed, just a muffled sound, but so close to her that she felt it touch her ear and move the hair he had carefully tucked behind it for her. She shivered, and it was not from the cold, this time.

She didn’t realize when it had happened, but she wasn’t frozen and stiff anymore, she had let go, at some point, and her body had not protested with pain.  
Nazir had his hands on her neck and he was guiding her in slow, small movements, while the callused pads of his fingers kept on spreading the potion on her skin.  
It didn’t hurt to move with his hands, it didn’t hurt at all, in fact it felt incredibly good, like a tankard of warm mead after a day out in the snow, like a long, deep kiss that makes your legs feel weak.  
She felt herself go completely limp in his hands, her back giving up any effort to support her weight, and she leaned back against Nazir. Relief washed over her when no pain followed the act, but a soft, content sound that came from her lips before she could stop it. 

“Feels good?”  
Nazir spoke and his voice felt deeper and warmer than ever, even with the hint of sarcastic mockery that was ever present. She supposed she’d earned it, this time, having just moaned shamelessly, under his hands, but it felt too good to worry about him teasing her, so she just did it again.  
This time, with his body pressed closer to hers and no movement to mask it, she felt his reaction. His hands stilled for a moment, and he shuddered, just a shiver running through him, something she could barely feel, even this close to him, but it was there.

His hands were moving slower, spreading the potion over her collarbone and then up against her throat, and her skin felt on fire. The pads of his fingers left a trail of heat that lingered and went deep, under her skin, seeping through muscle and bone, and becoming something liquid, warming her up from the inside.

When Nazir moved his hands lower, sliding on her collarbone again and then brushing against her breastband, she opened her eyes and looked up.  
He was watching her, from above, his hands now perfectly still and his lips slightly parted, like he was having trouble breathing, and maybe he was, because as soon as she thought about it, she realized she was having some troubles herself.  
She nodded, and this time it didn't hurt.

Warm hands trailed on her chest, just over her breastbone, and then parted, to reach her shoulders once more. She closed her eyes again, and arched instinctively, when she felt Nazir work the fastening of her breastband.

“Still. Still, girl.” He let the cloth fall from her breasts and caught it with a hand against her belly. “Don’t move, you don’t want to undo my good work, here, uhm?”

He rubbed lightly over her belly, then her sides, pressing on her ribs, slowly, his hands moved in time with her breathing.  
Maybe it was the potion, acting like a conductor, or the relief of being finally free from the pain but she felt on fire, like all her bones were suddenly turned into embers. She couldn’t pinpoint the moment when this had turned from healing torn muscles to his brother in Sithis playing her skin like a bard, but when he shifted to let her lean against him completely she felt, against the small of her back, the evidence that this was now something else for him too.

“Nazir…” She tried to move a little, just to get a better feeling of his erection pressed against her back, but he stopped her, quickly and efficiently, with his hands on her neck once again.

“Quiet.” she obeyed, instinctively, to the tone in his voice or maybe to the hand on her throat. “I’m going to ease your sore muscles, as I promised. I’m going to take such good care of our Listener… But she must stay very still and very quiet, mmmh?”

She moaned, before she could stop herself, when his hand trailed down from her neck and went to her left breast, leaving a trace of oily potion in his trail, and then she whimpered at the sensation of his rough palm cupping her, warm and not entirely gentle.

“I’m not saying you cannot make those beautiful sounds… Oh, I’d love to hear those, girl. Those you can make as much as you want.”

When he took her nipples and pinched, both at once, releasing them just a moment before it turned the wrong side of painful, she couldn’t help but gasp. 

His hands trailed down, one stopping to circle her navel, the other reaching her thigh.

“How does you back feel, Listener? Still sore?”

She didn’t dare to speak. She didn't want to take back control, not now that it felt so good to give it up, to let herself be cared for, and at the same time ruled over, completely, by him. She slowly shook her head in response.

“Then, perhaps you could spread your thighs for me a bit, yes? Ah, yes, perfect…”

His hands did all the work for her, all she had to do was let herself be posed, and then take anything he’d give her, like she had done earlier, when he’d kneaded at her torn muscles. But while she’d felt a jolt of pain when he had first started to work her sore neck, now it was something entirely different.  
Just the touch of his hand on her inner thigh, spreading her and pulling her closer to him, felt like the spark of a spell. 

The knots at the side of her smalls unlaced painfully slow, and he took his time removing them and putting them aside on the bed. She was having a really, really hard time staying silent.

The potion on his hands was gone, but the alchemical warmth lingered on his fingers, so when he first traced the edge of her sex, circling and not yet touching, she cried out.  
It was hot, almost too much, and it was not enough. 

She buckled, her body moving on its own accord, and she heard Nazir chuckle, behind her, his breath so close now that she could smell spiced wine on his tongue.  
She wanted to taste his tongue, that same clever, insufferable snarky tongue that had mocked her a hundred times a day, and yet she didn’t want to break the rules. She didn’t want to move and disobey him. It was maddening, and she couldn’t wrap her head around it, how much she was loving giving away all control, and all reserve, putting it in the hands of Nazir. Nazir! And his hands were everywhere, now, everywhere but where she needed them to be, and it drove her crazy. And he knew it.

He cupped her mound with the heel of his hand, but spread his fingers, so that he touched only the outside of her sex with them.  
She whimpered, but remained perfectly still. And he rewarded her.  
His fingers traced her lips, first, then circled closer and closer to her nub before finally touching, just barely. She moaned, and the plea in her voice was clear even without words.

“I’m going to give in way too soon… You just have to make more of these beautiful sounds for me, and you’ll have anything you want, Listener, anything…” he dipped one of his fingers lower, over her nub and down, then he stroke back up. “You…” He did it again. “...want.” and again.

She couldn’t control the sounds she was making anymore, and she didn't care. She could barely stay still, but just because his hands were moving, now, faster, and closer to where she needed them to be. Apparently he liked the sounds she was making and that thought almost brought her over the edge on its own.

And then, when she started trembling against him, he finally ended one of his long strokes by entering her, dipping one, then two of his long fingers into her, pumping them twice and then holding them there, as deep as he could, and she went off.  
She screamed, hoarse and joyful, her body, boneless and free from anything that wasn’t pleasure, felt like an earthquake, and only Nazir, firm and hard behind her, kept her from falling off the bed.

It took her more than a moment to come down from wherever he had sent her, and when she did, she felt warm lips on her neck, gentle, questioning kisses and the tickle of a beard braid on her shoulder. She laughed, then couldn’t help but shiver when he held her, pressed her against him.

“Nazir…”  
“Mmm… What was the rule against speaking again?”

Fine. She was perfectly capable of telling him what she meant without speaking, if he still wanted to play that game, and, to be honest, she had enjoyed playing it, so far. Not moving was going to be another matter entirely.

She shifted her weight, just enough that she was able to move a bit, and she deliberately rubbed her back against him. He was still very obviously and - she supposed - quite painfully hard.  
He groaned, deep and rumbling, and that was enough for her to feel heat pool inside her all over again.

“Ungh… Girl, stop that. You really don’t want to be teasing me, right now.”

Teasing him? What in Oblivion was he thinking? She let out a soft, pleading moan and rolled her ass against him, more deliberately this time, and then started to do it again.  
His hands came up and gripped at her hips tightly, almost painfully.

“Listener, this is not..." for the first time that night, she felt a shade of uncertainty in his voice. It might have been the first time ever. “This was for you, girl, I’m not…” He relaxed his grip on her, now that it looked like he’d got her attention. “I’m not going to ask for anything in return, here. It was for you. I know you don’t like me much, I’m not going to impose myself on…”

“Nazir!” She turned around, just barely, just enough to look at him in the eye and interrupt his rambling. He looked puzzled. “Nazir, I swear to Sithis, if you don’t shut up and fuck me this instant, I’m going to stab you in the face!”

His face changed in a heartbeat: one moment he was stern and composed, trying his best to look dignified, the next he had a predatory grin on and an amused light in his eyes.

With hands that now knew her well enough to grasp without looking, he caught both her breasts and pulled her against him once more, but this time he didn't bother holding back and grinded against her ass deliberately.  
His mouth was on her neck, and what started as an open mouthed kiss became a careful bite, not hard enough to hurt her, but good to make her shiver and distract her long enough.  
When she reached behind her, fumbling for his belt, she found nothing but skin.  
He caught her wrist in his hands and brought her arms back in front of her.

“I seem to recall telling you to stay very, very still, am I wrong?”  
She whimpered “But Na…”  
“... And silent.”

There they were again, playing the same game. She decided she was quite happy with it, for now. Maybe next time they could play something different. 

Before she could think too much about considering other times or about how much she liked to just give him all control of the situation, she felt his hand on her sex once again, his fingers teasing her nub, while his other hand had her thigh gripped firmly and possessively. 

And then she finally felt him lean into her, his legs brushing against the back of hers, his muscles working to keep him slightly crouched to fit into their height difference despite him standing and her being still kneeling on a bed, still in the same position as they started, and forbidden to move. She was about to go crazy.

“We don’t want all my good work to get ruined, don’t we?”  
He spoke like he had just read her mind. “Are you’re going to be very good and very quite, for me, Listener?”  
She was about to nod in response, when she felt him, hot and heavy, against her ass, and she shook, instead, shivering from head to toe.  
He shifted, pulling away, and she canted her hips backwards, trying to show him how impatient she was growing, not caring at all about how wanton and needy she was looking, on her knees, with her legs spread and soaking wet for him.

He rocked in towards her, but didn’t push inside yet, and still she didn’t found the force to complain. His cock slid all along her sex, from her opening to her nub, showing the head just where his hand was stroking her, and then going back, the curve of him teasing and rubbing, slowly, painfully slow.  
It was maddening and it was exquisite at the same time. She could feel all of him, every inch of his considerable length stroking her and sliding against her, and every time he did that he made a sound, deep and purring, like a big cat growling.  
She couldn’t help it and broke the rules.

“Fuck! Nazir…”

He didn't stop rocking back and forth, stroking himself on the outside of her, making her climb higher, and higher at every pass, but he moved his hands to keep her still.

“If you insist on breaking the rules, I’ll have you know…” His grip on her hips became almost painful. “...that there is a punishment for this sort of behavior.”

At that point she didn’t care if he wanted her to walk on hot coals or planned to whip her raw, as long as he…

“...If you’re going to speak, you’re going to say something that matters.”  
She was getting close, so close, and even so she was feeling horribly frustrated.  
“Something I want to hear you say. Will you?”

She realized he was waiting for an answer.  
“Yes! Yes, oh fuck, please, yes!”

He moved one of his hands to her neck, without squeezing, but resting his palm heavily against her throat. “I want to hear you say it, girl, how much you want me to fuck you. How much you want my cock inside you, now!”

Oh, fuck was it all? She couldn’t think of anything easier to say, in that moment, and yet… Her pride chose that instant to show itself.

Nazir smirked, she could feel him against her skin. Did he really knew her so well? Oh, but of course he did, the bastard, and he was enjoying this so much: feeling her tremble, wanting her, and yet giving her the means to push him away, to choose pride over him. But if she didn’t act like her usual self, like her usual stubborn self, and just gave in, shouted whatever he wanted her to shout, what a rush would he get!  
The son of a whore was getting off on this, on seeing her fight against the limits he was setting, one after the other, on her bending to his will and agreeing to scream her need out loud… And was that such a hard thing to do? Was her pride something that mattered, with him? This was Nazir, not some snotty noble prat or Nord knight. He wanted her to scream for him? Fuck her pride, she wanted it too!

He rolled deliberately slow against her and catched briefly on the hood of her nub, and she couldn't take it anymore  
“Fuck off, you bastard… I want you so much… Please fuck me, Nazir, please, please, please....”

Nazir groaned and moved: with a long, hard thrust he was inside her, and her vision went blank. Solid, hot flesh stretched her enough to verge on painful, but it was just a moment and the next one was just the feeling of Nazir pounding inside her from behind, hard but slow, and the sounds that echoed on the stone walls were strangled moans that came from both of them.

Her knees gave up under her, and a strong arm gripped her hard enough to bruise, but the heat quickly uncoiling inside her made every other sensation fade.  
This time she came without a sound, because she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t speak and she honestly didn’t care. The tension exploded, every single inch of her skin felt it, and it was almost violent and glorious and she felt Nazir follow her, calling her name.

She came to with someone massaging her shoulders, collapsed at her side, but with his legs still over her, on the edge of the bed.

“Nazir...”  
“Silence, my sister… Silence. How do you feel?”  
She laughed, muffled by the bed covers she was sprawled over.  
“Honestly? I have no idea. I feel completely and utterly well fucked, if that’s what you meant!”  
“Well, it wasn’t, but I’m glad to hear that.”

He looked at her and pressed his hands on her back, just slightly.  
“Does it hurt anymore?”

She raised on her elbows, very carefully, and looked down at him.  
“Mmmno… No. ‘s all good. You must have restoration magic in your…”

He laughed, and grasped at the back of her head, pulling her down for a kiss.  
It was slow, and strangely intimate, for a first kiss, like they had a long practice.  
She felt breathless when they parted, and she didn’t speak anymore, trying to make sense of all that had just happened.

Nazir looked up at her, with his usual smirk. “Well… you have people to kill, my friend. Better get to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this is really just a silly short thing, but it was also an experiment I wanted to try: writing a sex scene where there is no change in position from start to finish.  
> I don't know if it came out any good, but I had fun writing it.


End file.
